


Going Out to Sea

by theleaveswant



Category: And Then There Were None (TV 2015)
Genre: Confessions, Dark, Exhibitionism, Extended Scene, F/M, In Media Res, Interrogation, Manipulation, Missing Scene, Murderers, Rough Sex, Shameless, Survival, Teasing, overuse of nautical imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 19:37:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10315487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/pseuds/theleaveswant
Summary: Four little soldier boys going out to seaA red herring swallowed one and then there were three(Extended/missing scene/alternate outcome to Philip visiting Vera's room)





	

**Author's Note:**

> PBAM Prompt Stack 2 prompts: against a wall/door, barefoot, fortune, greedy, hinge, red, drama, gasp, fingertips, wet, skin

Lombard _would_ wait until she was on the brink to start asking questions.

"You let that boy drown, didn't you?" he murmured, the words eddying on breath like steam against her ear. He spoke in the same low growl he'd been using to recite passionate inanities, 'just like that' and 'God, Vera' and so on, and Vera would have let the sound waft by without registering had Lombard not withdrawn his fingers.

She dropped an inch or three, absent the persistent strength of his arm bearing her upwards, her left heel resuming contact with the floor. "What?" Vera blinked stupidly, disoriented by her abrupt, if minor, relocation and by the unappeased throb between her legs.

"Poor little Cyril," Lombard purred, his second-day beard growth scratching a cheek already rasped raw as he drew back to confront her. His long-lashed eyes flickered raptorially as he studied her face in the dark. "You could have saved him," he continued, stroking the insides of her thighs tickle-light with his knuckles. "You made a choice."

Vera's breath hitched. "Worse than that," she said, her hips jutting forward irresistibly, seeking Lombard's hand. Her upper back stung, chafed by the paint on the door roughening prematurely in the damp, salted air of the island. He had her at something of a disadvantage, clothingwise, or she did him, depending on how one looked at it. With his shirt open and untucked, his belt unbuckled and the top two buttons on his trousers undone, Lombard was dishevelled but contained. Vera by contrast splayed open, bare and unfettered, nude bar the stockings slipping down around her knees and the belt that served no purpose now its straps no longer held them in place. Sloppy. Loose.  "I told him to swim."

Lombard let her catch him, hand turning to cup her mound. Vera gasped at the jolt of pleasure that flared from the firm rub he gave her before slapping her swollen nether lips with his fingers and withdrawing his hand completely. "Why?" he asked, his mouth ripe from kissing, and loomed in closer, driving her back against the door. He stroked her throat, fingers sticky with her cooling juices, then grabbed a fistful of hair and wrenched her head back while he stooped to lick up the smear.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Vera's mouth skewed into a crooked smile and her voice was a breathless whisper. "He had something I wanted."

Lombard laughed, a huff of air washing Vera's skin, and she imagined him smirking. He bit her gently and raised his head, bumping her nose with his own. His right hand left her hair to begin creeping back down her body, wavering from shoulder to breast and pinching the goosebumped flesh. "Which was?"

Vera shrugged and let the motion dribble through her, squeezing her thighs together as she squirmed. It was unbearable, the tight ache of her arousal. If Lombard didn't touch her again soon . . . "When Cyril died the fortune reverted to his uncle."

"Who you were fucking." His hand was on her hip now, wrapping around to squeeze the flesh of her buttock and pulling her pelvis towards his.

" _Whom_ I was fucking," Vera corrected, pushing aside the anguish and shame that bloomed inside her with the thought of Hugo and writhing her body against Lombard's, sinuous and wanton, applying particular pressure to the hard ridge of his erection.

Lombard laughed again, louder this time and with an element of a groan. He was entirely unprepared for Vera shoving him backward with both palms on his chest and staggered three or four steps, torso rocking to keep his balance.

For the first time since Vera's back hit the door Lombard looked uncertain. He frowned, his eyes narrowing and kiss-flushed mouth pouting to shape the sound of a question then freezing as he watched Vera skim her fingers down her belly to her cunt. "Death is for other people," Vera reminded him.

Vera pushed two fingers between her lips to wet them at the mouth of her channel then drew them back up to start rubbing slow, hard circles over her pearl. The sensation of being touched was less intense when it was her own hand doing the touching but the satisfaction of watching Lombard's jaw go slack watching her went some way toward making up for that. His prick jerked inside his trousers; Vera's eyes flicked south at the movement and lingered to watch him cup himself through the fabric then stick his hand inside the waistband. Vera's fingers circled faster. She returned her gaze to Lombard's face and saw him lick his lips, captivated by her shamelessness as he had been in the corridor when she exposed for him her red swimming costume. He was hers, then, as he was hers now—for as long as she needed him, at least, or as long as she could keep him entertained.

"I'm leaving this island," Vera said, smiling as she hit the sweet friction she needed to bring herself off, "with or without you, but it'll go easier if you help."

Lombard grunted, looking up just far enough to watch her pinch a nipple with her free hand, crushing it between finger and thumb. He freed another button on his trousers, granting himself more space for stroking. "Got a plan, have you?"

"I do." 

"Well, you are a clever one." Lombard's chest swelled and emptied with deep, roughened breaths like waves lapping sand.

Vera shook her head. "I'm not waiting any longer for rescue that might not come. I'll find my own way to shore." Still swirling her fingers around that most sensitive spot Vera released her nipple and crooked her index finger.

Lombard responded immediately, shoving his trousers down off his hips and closing the distance between them. "There's no boats," he reminded her as he crowded her back against the wall.

Vera raised her hand at the last second before Lombard trapped it. She laid her brined fingers across his lips and gasped when he opened his mouth and bit. "Then we'll improvise." 

Lombard groaned and lifted Vera by the backside, his rough hands spread over the undersides of her thighs to support her while she reached down to steer his prick to her wet inlet. She'd barely glimpsed the prick in question, only a flash as he surged toward her, and she swore a silent promise to both of them to get to know it better, if they made it out of here, someplace far away from the Devon coast. The flesh was solid, though, hot in her hand and large enough that her cunt felt stretched by it.

A tremor ran through Lombard as Vera enveloped him. His eyelids fluttered before he raised his face to meet her gaze. "What do you need me to do?"

"Well, Philip," Vera said, bracing her shoulders against the door for leverage to take him deeper. "You can start by fucking this door off its hinges. After that, may I presume you're able to row?"


End file.
